


Hiding

by butterofsalmon



Series: The Oolong Chronicles [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Reader is female!, Romance, ex student/teacher relationship, humour??? sort of???, in which Qui-Gon is a cheeky little hippie bastard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:13:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22671574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterofsalmon/pseuds/butterofsalmon
Summary: Qui-Gon Jinn's Padawan has long been a knighted Jedi, yet she finds herself doubting her competences. An old friend comes to her aid.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Reader
Series: The Oolong Chronicles [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1630987
Comments: 3
Kudos: 38





	Hiding

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is one of the first prompts I received on tumblr for reader/Qui-Gon:  
> “hi hi sorry to add to ur list of requests but I’m Going Through It and I was wondering if you could write Qui-gon being comforting and it leading to both of you realising that the feelings there run far deeper than platonic? idk if any of that made sense akdjaf sorry. I love your writing so much!! I hope you’re having a nice day”
> 
> I’m literally so disappointed in this one, but I’ve been stuck on it for three days now and had to start over 2-3 times, so I said f*ck it we’re doin’ it live. Let me know what you thought! Much love. (❁´◡`❁)

The days in your quarters were long, lonely, and uninterrupted, just like you had planned. It had been five days since you had returned from that wretched mission on Ryloth, and you had shut yourself in your chambers ever since. You needed some time to reevaluate your place in the Jedi Order, and how well you could carry out your duties as a Jedi Knight, or rather, _if_ you could carry out your duties as a Jedi Knight. Five years had passed since you had been knighted, and yet you had never felt so incapable… _If only I could have saved them on Ryloth…_

Your thoughts were interrupted when a mannerly knock came from your front door. You shifted on your couch, nestled in the corner of the L-shaped lounger with a blanket, and entertained the thought of answering the door. A couple of visitors had come to your door over the week, but you had never responded to them as you had been searching recluse for what you thought would be a couple of days. The rational part of your brain had told you to peel yourself from your spot to answer your friends, but your heart was too heavy to be logical.

This time was no different. You fed your caprice and pulled the blanket over your head, exhaling a huff of air through your nose as you heard a second knock. You closed your eyes, attempting a half-assed meditation to block out the sound. You were in no mood to socialize.

“(Y/N).”

Your breath hitched when you recognized the muffled voice.

Suddenly panicked, you scrambled. You threw the blanket off of you and jumped to your feet, and you winced – you were dressed in a night robe, your legs and feet bare, and your living room was an absolute disaster: the table was riddled with whichever books you had been absentmindedly reading, and you hadn’t been exactly orderly with empty snack wrappers. You froze to your spot for a few seconds, prioritizing in your head what needed to be cleaned. You dashed forward to start picking up the garbage on the floor, but you stopped dead in your tracks when he spoke again.

“(Y/N), I know you’re there. Open the door,” you recognized the unspoken threat from the tone of his voice: if you didn’t open, he’d pick the lock.

With no time to tidy, you opted for shoveling the trash under your couch, and smoothing down your hair as best as you could on your way to the door. You sucked in a breath and opened the door with the push of a button. It hissed opened, and you were left face to face with none other than Master and friend Qui-Gon Jinn. He looked the same as you last saw him: tall, dignified, handsome.

You feigned your best casual smile under the dark-haired Jedi’s inquisitive gaze, as if your quasi-bathrobe attire was unquestionably standard. You noticed he was cradling some sort of plate covered in aluminum foil in his hand.

“Hello, Master Jinn,” you offered nonchalantly, and though his face never betrayed that cool expression of his, the Jedi eyed you up and down. “To what do I owe this visit?”

He shifted his weight to one foot, a gesture that you had learned, over the years of knowing Qui-Gon, was a sign of annoyance. “You’ve been incognito for days,” Qui-Gon replied steadily. “Some of your colleagues were starting to worry.”

“Oh?”

“I figured you couldn’t ignore your former Master the way you ignored the rest of your colleagues.” 

You laughed sardonically, and stepped aside. You hated when he was right. “Come in.”

“I brought you some real food,” The Jedi Master’s eyes swept the room while he stepped inside, noticing the abnormal disarray of your belongings as he spoke. He suppressed the urge to scold you. When he felt your hands gently take the dish from his, he pulled his attention back to you. “And I’m glad I did. It looks like you haven’t left your apartments since you got home from your assignment.”

He watched you set the dish down on your kitchen counter, lifting the foil enough to see what was under it. He noticed a smile pull at your lips; a genuine one this time. He had gone to your favourite Coruscanti restaurant to order your go-to dish.

“You don’t have to babysit me anymore, you know,” you said, and Qui-Gon followed you into the living room. “I’m grown.” 

His eye was caught by the shimmer of an empty plastic package sticking out from under your couch, but before he could open his mouth to comment, you shoved them further under the couch with your foot upon realizing he’d noticed them. He raised his eyebrows, almost wanting to laugh. You gave him a sheepish look. “Clearly.” 

The two of you fell into silence, and it gave the older man a chance to really look at you; weariness stained the underside of your eyes, and it was certainly abnormal to see you with your hair down – you usually wore it up while on duty – but it didn’t mean he disliked it. On the contrary. The sight of you in a thin silk robe invited his eyes to wander your body, but he wasn’t the type of man to give into such motivations, particularly not in your current mental state. And so, his gaze never faltered past your shoulders, cataloguing every sign of strain on your features. _And even so, she’s beautiful._

When he caught his gaze travelling down your delicate collarbone to your décolleté – soft and appealing –, he swallowed his thoughts and averted his eyes from you.

If there was anyone who could get you out of your hiding hole, it was Qui-Gon, and he knew it.

“Get dressed; you need some fresh air.” 

༺༻ 

The walk to the Temple’s balcony gardens was quiet; Qui-Gon’s mere presence had always been comforting enough for you to not feel obligated to engage in any small talk. When you arrived, you found the terrace empty, and Qui-Gon walked the both of you to the stump of a tree. He sat down, his long legs crossed, and his back against the trunk. He motioned for you to do the same. 

You found yourselves pleasantly shoulder to shoulder, looking out at the gardens. Past the balcony was a view of the bumbling air lanes of Coruscant’s traffic and skyscrapers that scintillated in the afternoon sun. You breathed in the scent of greenery and closed your eyes as you tilted your head back against the tree’s trunk, feeling the pulsation of the Force flowing within it; a skill Qui-Gon spent many years teaching you. Kriff, you were exhausted.

You sat in silence for a while, enjoying the calm breeze and the sounds of buzzing insects. You felt your energy begin to restore from basking in the tree’s life, and you wondered if perhaps the slight touch of Qui-Gon’s strong shoulder also had played a part in your rejuvenation. When you opened your eyes again, Qui-Gon had his closed, his arms tucked in his robes’ sleeves and his brows slightly knit in concentration. 

Sighing, you sat up straight and shifted uncomfortably against the roots, your hands limp in your lap. You welcomed Qui-Gon’s body heat that seeped into your own shoulder. Qui-Gon’s silence had a strange way of coaxing you to speak, and you took a few moments to formulate your thoughts.

“I let three people die on Ryloth, including a Jedi,” you muttered. You saw from the edge of your vision that Qui-Gon had cracked open an eye. “The others were Twi’lek villagers. They sacrificed themselves so the rest of the village could survive.” 

Qui-Gon closed his eyes again, “If they sacrificed themselves, then how is it that you claim responsibility for their lives?” 

“Because I _was_ responsible for their lives. I was sent to protect their village, and yet they perished under my protection.”

“Had they not died, would the other villagers have survived?”

You saw where he was going with this. You sank into your spot. “… No.”

“Your duty is to make decisions that will save as many lives as possible. You did the right thing.”

“I know… But I’ll never get used to people dying.” 

“Death is not the opposite of life, but a part of it.” 

_How cold,_ you thought, _but how wise._ You had always envied Qui-Gon for his infinite perspicacity; he always managed to remain detached, but without losing benevolence – something you had always struggled with. Your emotions always got the better of you.

Your eyes began to sting at the thought of never being able to reach your former Master’s height of wisdom, and in a feeble voice, you managed, “I’m weak, aren’t I?” 

Upon hearing your voice break, Qui-Gon turned to look at you. He frowned; fresh tears spilled from your eyes, though you tried to wipe them away, thinking he wouldn’t see them if you moved fast enough. He’d only seen you cry a couple of times, but neither of those times had been in your adulthood. It took him a few seconds to wrap his head around the magnitude of the pain swelling in you in order for you, his endlessly fervent Padawan, to be brought to tears. A soft, compassionate smile graced his features when he saw you desperately attempting to pull yourself together, but his stomach sank.

You felt an arm wrap around your shoulders, and you were pulled into Qui-Gon’s welcoming chest. His hand reached around your face to cup your cheek gently, his thumb swiping across your skin to dry your tears. You felt his nose nuzzle into your hair.

“You’re not weak,” he murmured into your hair, his powerful hands giving you a squeeze, and you almost thought for a second that if he held you close enough, he could put you back together. “Your empathy is not a sign of weakness.”

He felt you sigh at his words. He gently pulled away from you to meet your eyes, his arm still around you. “On the contrary, your compassion is what differentiates you from the rest,” he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, and his smile melted your anxiety. Everything about him exuded strength. Safety, stability. Home. It intoxicated you. “But you can’t let it control you.”

You locked the words in your mind for the future, and you nodded slowly in his embrace. Your eyes searched his, and the vastness of his ocean eyes ceased your tears. With a shaky breath, and a sheepish smile, you admitted, “Sometimes I wish I could just go back to being your apprentice.”

He returned your smile, but there was an emotion behind it you didn’t quite recognize, “I don’t.”

Surprised, you blinked up at him, “How come?”

“Because I wouldn’t be able to do this.”

Your eyes widened when he closed the gap between the two of you, quickly enough for you to be surprised, but tenderly enough for him to earn a pleasurable tremor from your body when his lips met yours. His mouth was warm and soft, his trimmed beard blissfully grazing your skin, and his scent positively intoxicating. When you surmounted your shock, you eagerly kissed him back. He smiled into the kiss. Qui-Gon pulled you close to him, and your hands instinctively went to his powerful chest, running your fingers over the warm skin that was accessible to you. You felt a sigh escape him at the contact, and it wasn’t long after that that you felt him start to pull away from what you didn’t know was an attempt at self-restraint. Despite the gardens’ vacancy, it remained a public place, and though Qui-Gon wasn’t concerned by what others thought of him, he didn’t want your name dragged through the mud if you were seen kissing you former Master.

The two of you broke away from the kiss, and Qui-Gon chuckled when you whimpered at the loss of contact. He kept you in his embrace, running his long fingers through your hair and humming in contemplation. His eyes meditatively followed his touch through your locks, but he could feel you staring at him expectantly.

“Are you quite finished hiding, then?” he asked.

His blue eyes were pulled to yours when you smirked, and something stirred inside him at the seductive look in your eye. “If _this_ is what’s waiting for me out here, then I’m not sure I’ll ever go back to my rooms.”

He matched your impish grin with his own, and you yelped in surprise when the much larger man yanked you into his lap before rolling the two of you an inch over into a nearby bush, making you land on top of him. The shrub was lush with soft, green leaves, and it was big enough to shield the both of you from curious eyes. Hands splayed on his chest for support, and your legs involuntarily straddling his waist, the dark-haired man looked up at you with hungry eyes.

“I guess you’ll just have to stay with me,” the Jedi whispered huskily, just loud enough for you to hear. He pulled you into another kiss by your wrists, knocking you off balance into his embrace, and he smiled wolfishly when you gasped into his mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like my writing, and would like to support me, please consider tipping me on Ko-Fi (https://ko-fi.com/salmonbutter) for as little as $3! (❁´◡`❁)
> 
> If you'd like to request a reader/Qui-Gon fic, send me a message over on tumblr: tumblr.com/salmonbutter.
> 
> Cheers, bitches.


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